No Rest For the Wicked
by the 85th writer
Summary: He remembers seeing it in Seeley's eyes, the slight darkening of the irises, the uneasy shift of his shoulders. He has no claim - my Bones, Jared, my Bones.


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**A/N:** I realise that everybody hates Jared, but I kept seeing him as more of a sympathetic/flawed character. He's had the same family life that Booth has, and probably has baggage of his own to carry. Sure he's a complete jerk to Booth, but I found myself wondering if he had his reasons, and whether he was perhaps not a little self destructive. That bred this.

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"Hi. My name is Jared, and I'm an alcoholic." Yeah. It's not something he can ever see himself doing.

He's not sure why he went to the bar in the first place (but then he's never been sure anyway and now he's basically just stopped asking). Whatever the reason though, it always makes him feel better. All the deep and dark things inside sweep back into whatever hole they had tried to emerge from, having been beaten back by a sharp stinging tide that hurts as it cleans. It almost feels like an antispetic.

Seeley understands people, he's been told. It's something he finds hard to believe, sometimes more often than others. Because he's not sure Seeley understands _him._ His mind tends to wander (especially to the past) whenever he's around his elder brother, which is why he tends to avoid DC. It opens up too many old wounds, wounds he's never really _allowed_ to heal. But he has it under control, he really does. He's become stronger as the years have passed, building up each plate of armor slowly and painfully. Efficiently, without any wasted movement. He hasn't gotten where he is by being anything less. He's curt, precise and sharp in all of his dealings (_most_ of your dealings, a voice corrects. Most. Not all_.)_

He's never been what's called the good boy. But being the good boy never gets anyone anywhere. You can invest yourself whole heartedly into something (a relationship, it's called a relationship), you can try and try and _try_ and smile through it even though you don't want to but it never really makes a difference. He knows this. He's learnt this the hard way, and lessons learnt like that stay.

A part of him blames Seeley. In his more rational moments (usually ones when his older brother is not around. His head is clearer then.) he knows that's probably not fair of him. Seeley did try. His mouth twists in a wry smile as he remembers days when his brother was something (_brother, friend, hero?_) - _some_thing_._ Now he's a something else. A reminder perhaps. Or a mirror.

The glass ripples when he touches the mirror in his mind; it does crazy things to the outlines of Seeley's image. It shifts and bends, until he's looking at himself. Mirror images? Perhaps not. They have the same laugh, he's been told, but in his head, _his_ sounds more like the tinkling sounds of crystal shattering. (See the thing is Seeley _left._) He clenches his hands around the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. (_Seeley_ left_.) _

You have to grow up on your own, he knows that. He's tried to keep things - some things - young, he really has, but every one grows up someday. Besides, it's not like Seeley hadn't come back. He had. (_But will it ever be enough?)_

His head is hazy with sleep and his face is flushed with alcohol. Sunlight in a bottle, his father used to say (and those were the _good_ days). Jared prefers the term 'store-bought happiness', or artificial sweetener maybe. The thought makes him laugh, and the sound is discordant and strange, even to his own ears. He's driving, and it's fast and he can hear his elder brother's voice inside his head (you really should slow down, Jared. Yeah I should, shouldn't I?). Seel's always been his conscience of sorts, as a kid and even now. Over the years he's come to hate it, that solemn face Seel makes and that inflection, that _tone_ his voice gets (you _don't_, you _don't_ get to use that tone anymore, you left_. _You l_eft_ me with - ) when he says something that makes sense (but it feels so _good _not to obey) .

His mind hearks back to the cocktail party, to the evening, to Tempe (_Bones,_ he calls her _Bones)_. He remembers seeing it in Seeley's eyes, the slight darkening of the irises, the uneasy shift of his shoulders. He has no claim (_My_ Bones, Jared, _my_ Bones), and yet he _has_ claim. The scene plays itself over and over again in his mind.

The lights are around them, the night air carrying with it sounds of revelry and his success. He wears the fruit of his effort well, (_step outside the comfort zone)_ and he can see her. They would go well, he thinks, imagining Seeley and this beautiful, enigmatic woman (not alike, yet similar enough). As he sits beside her he has a random flash of insight, and he _knows_ that Seeley will never make a move until she does (_step outside the comfort zone, Seel!)_ and the hurt that lays dormant (most of the time) bursts into bloom because in that moment he _hates_ his older brother for being so fucking _noble_, and unselfish and everything he isn't (because it's _weak _to care, and being weak only leads to bad things, and Seeley's not there to take _care _of it because Seeley's not _there damnit_) and even though there is a part of him that tries to shout dissent, it gets washed away in the raging tide that follows. He smiles cockily, leans in and kisses her and he doesn't know if he's elated or disappointed when she responds.

His mind returns to the present and his car is too fast (slow down little bro, you're going too_ fast) _he's not in control anymore. The streetlights are fuzzy and he's not in control and he swerves because there's a _car_ and he spins. The seatbelt jerks him against his seat as the car slams into the pole and suddenly his chest is burning and he raises his arms because it _hurts_ and Seeley's not _there_ and he can't stop it and then he blacks out.

When he comes to, he's shaking because he's scared (_and oh fuck DUI DUI DUI) _and there are questions (_his career is fucked!)_ and the police and the only person who he can think of is his older brother. Seeley's there soon, he can hear the crunching noise of his shoes as they hit the asphalt, and he has That Look on his face (it shouldn't piss him off, but it does. Oh _God_ it does). It doesn't take long; the elder Booth does what he always does, and the brothers drive home.

Seeley wordlessly tosses him a bottle of water, and as he drinks he begins to feel a little sick (and not all of it is from the alcohol). He passes out again. The next morning Seel's gone and Jared feels like shit. He buys a couple of Capitals tickets (Seeley like the Flyers) and drops them off at the Hoover building. He hopes they will do.

--

_You took advantage of him.  
You made me think he was a loser.  
You're the loser._

He pulls himself up off the floor and looks around sheepishly. He flashes the Booth charm smile and shakes his head as he makes a joke to the bartender about fiesty redheads. Everyone smiles indulgently as the tension dissolves. The horribly false grin is still firmly plastered on his face as he steps out.

--

Evening comes and he still feels like crap over what happened with the RICO case; so even though he knows that all of Seeley's friends (including Tempe) probably hate him he decides to go. All he has to do is keep a low profile for the evening, and let Seeley enjoy his birthday. It's probably the least he can do.

He smiles as he enters the bar, kisses Cam on the cheek and goes and sits a little away from them. Not too close, but close enough not to be impolite. He orders a drink and raises it in toast after Tempe makes her speech. It hurts, but then he'd gone in knowing that it would probably be a difficult evening. He downs atleast half the glass to lessen the sting (he's promised himself only one drink; it _is_ Seeley's birthday). He needs a distraction, and the vacuous woman next to him does well enough. Or atleast she does until he sees Tempe and Seeley talking. It's clearly not going well because his brother's doing that thing with his shoulders; it's what he does when he gets edgy.

It makes him angry because he can guess what they're talking about, and he wants to shout that she damn well kissedhim_back_ but he doesn't because he's promised himself that he's not going to ruin the evening. But it looks like the evening is ruined anyway, because Seeley stands up and steers him outside.

The night air is cold, and he doesn't want this conversation just now, so he decides to make it obliquely clear to Seeley that whatever has happened between him and Tempe is _definitely _in the past_._

"Are you here to give me advice on your partner? Because, I think that ship has sailed."

But Seeley doesn't look at him, just scuffs his boots against the pavement and does that thing with his shoulders again. Jared's fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around the glass in his hand. "No..." he hears him say, "It's what _I_ gotta do. I gotta stop. You understand?" And then Seel's looking at him with That Look again, but for the life of him he doesn't know what this is about. And then of course Seel makes it perfectly clear. His eyes flick to the glass, and up at Jared again. "The drinking. You gotta stop."

A moment of silence hangs between them, and Jared doesn't want this happening here, _now._ Any day but today, so he tries to brush it off, maybe Seeley will let it go. They have other days to talk about this (he's _promised_ himself that he'd keep it under control for today). He grins unconvincingly and says something about taking it under advisement as he turns towards the doors. It doesn't work. Seeley still remains standing there, and Jared's temper flares inspite of itself.

"I'm serious. No more stepping in to make things go away." The statement irks him, especially the part about making things go away (where were you when _I_ couldn't make things go away? Where were you when dad - ). The sentiment is expressed a little to late, in his opinion. He's trying to mend bridges here, but if Seeley's just going to pretend that he's always been there even though he's not re- Jared slows and takes a deep breath. He can still salvage this, and as he grits his teeth, he thinks he can (_he can ignore the hurt in Seeley's eyes just this once, he can. Can he?)_

"I carry my own water, Seeley."  
(_don't look at me like that)  
_"Now you should go back inside and enjoy your birthday party."  
_(don't fucking look at me like I'm him damnit)_

He can't help it, for all his talk, he's always been the weak one (_and Seeley's always been the strong one. brother, hero , friend?_). He can't help it as his hand lifts the glass to his lips (it's only one drink, but it's enough), and he feels the liquid burn down his throat. The ice cubes rattle and clink as he shakes the glass in Seeley's face (gives him no satisfaction. none at all_). _He turns away and moves towards the doors, stepping into the warmth. Seeley's not coming in just yet, staying out in the cold for now _(just like old times)._

He looks at the rest of them, all of Seeley's friends. Someone needs to go outside _right _now (_and it can't be you Jarhead, it can't be you_)_._ He catches Tempe's eye; and even though Seeley says she's not the best with people, she understands the look on his face quick enough. He exhales audibly as he watches her move towards the door. She's got a slice of (Seeley's birthday) cake and two forks in her hand.

The next morning he drops off an expensive gift for Parker at the Hoover building before catching his flight back. He hopes it will do.

- _fin -_

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